


The Gotham Poison Garden

by AplusIsRoman



Series: Ivyverse [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Child Acquisition, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adoption, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brotherly Bonding, Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, Childhood Trauma, Children of the Dark AU, Dick Grayson is Nightshade, Dick Grayson is Not Nightwing, Dick Grayson is Not Robin, Dick Grayson-centric, Flashbacks, Found Family, Gen, Gotham City - Freeform, Gotham City Police Department, Homelessness, Ivyverse, Jason Todd is Hemlock, Jason Todd is Not Red Hood, Jason Todd is Not Robin, Mentor-Protégé Relationship, Mother-Son Relationship, Motherhood, Near Death Experiences, Obsessive Behavior, Origin Story, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Character Death, Revenge, Semi-Consensual Kidnapping, Superpowers, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Villains, batman is a cryptid, poison ivy au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22325527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AplusIsRoman/pseuds/AplusIsRoman
Summary: Ivy's Saplings grow in age and number...Part 1: Dick didn't kill himself, and he's going to make sure all of Gotham knows. Not even Batman can stop him.Part 2: Dick is an orphan. Pam is all he has.Part 3: Jason was dying, and no one was going to miss him.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Pamela Isley, Pamela Isley & Jason Todd
Series: Ivyverse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605613
Comments: 39
Kudos: 248





	1. Part 1: Belladonna Bloom

“Focus. This isn’t talking, this is _controlling._ Put your consciousness _into_ it.” Pamela Isley frowned at him. Dick swallowed, fighting the urge to rub his eyes. They’d been at it all night. The radio wafted in from another ‘room’--it wasn’t really a house, since it was made of living plants in the middle of Robinson Park that Poison Ivy had commanded to take the shape of a shelter, but it had separate sections like rooms so that really was the best word for it. (It was warm, and the rain couldn’t get in unless Ivy let it. It was nicer than juvie or the streets, so Dick didn’t complain.) 

The aloe plant shook in front of him, trying to do what Dick was telling it to do--but that was the problem, wasn’t it? He was _telling_ it to let him in, and it was trying, but he had to actually _take control._

Easier said than done.

“...the body was believed to have been stolen from the crime scene, possibly an accomplice covering their tracks.” The radio was clear even against the din of plantlife chattering away around them. While it felt like he could hear the noise in his ears, Ivy had explained that it was actually more of a distance-based sixth sense all on its own. Hence why even in the loudest of areas plant-wise, his hearing was completely unhindered. 

“Try again,” Ivy stood, turning to leave the room. “I’ll get us something to eat.”

Dick bit back a sigh, continuing his attempts as the radio blared on. 

“Geez, a child bomber. It sounds like something that happens in third-world countries, not here, you know?” The female radio host tutted. 

Her male counterpart made an agreeing noise. “And really, with people crazy enough to kill a kid, there’s nothing they could have done to prevent it, you know? They picked the worst time too, what with Ivy’s breakout from Arkham.” 

Dick cut off communication with the succulent, listening intently to the radio. 

“Do you think the kid knew he was carrying a bomb?” The woman asked. 

“I guess we’ll never know,” the man sighed. “We’re just lucky the workers noticed there was a bomb at all, or even more people would have gotten hurt.”

“What?” Dick spoke aloud, walking out into the other area. The radio was sitting on top of an oversized camellia, hooked up to a solar battery Ivy had legally purchased from a terrified man running a little eco-friendly electronics store. (Ivy had told Dick that she always tried to avoid collateral damage to establishments like that, since they’re technically on her side of ‘the argument.’) 

“Yeah, but the poor kid! First his parents, then whatever crazies gave him a bomb.” Dick grabbed either side of the radio, listening to the woman’s next words. “Hopefully his body will be found and given a proper send-off soon. Rest in peace, Richard Grayson.”

\---

Ivy didn’t ask why the radio was destroyed. She didn’t have to. 

“They--they _lied._ There was no _bomb,_ I didn’t--I never wanted to die! Their security just sucked! And I saw one of their guys talking to one of Zucco’s guys, so I thought maybe they knew about my _parents,_ and it’s not my fault!” The boy in front of her seemed to be having a full meltdown, his tears making the grass beneath him shoot up like plant-steroids. Ivy reached out and put her hands on his shoulders, holding him a good distance away from her.

“Men are _trash,_ ” she said. The comment from seemingly out of left field got his attention, his blubbering put on pause as he looked into her face with confusion. 

“Men are trash, and they will do everything they can to protect themselves, even blaming a _dead child_ for what they did. You said they had no guards or cameras or anything, and they were dealing with _highly volatile chemicals._ ”

Dick nodded. “They didn’t even lock the front door. And--and they put that goo stuff on the top shelf, ANYBODY could have knocked it over!”

“Exactly.” Ivy released his shoulders. “They’re fully grown adults. It’s their responsibility to take precautions in a city like this one. Hell, with Arkham’s revolving door,  _ I _ could have shown up and they wouldn’t have been able to even slow me down. What happened to you is  _ not your fault. _ ” 

“But nobody else knows,” Dick said miserably, looking down at the wreckage of the radio scattered around him. “Everybody thinks I’m still dead.”

“We can fix that.”

Dick looked up at her, and Ivy felt a pang in her chest at the look in his eyes. “How?”

Ivy smirked, the plants around her shuddering as they felt her mood shift. “We’ll show those  _ men _ exactly what we think of  _ liars. _ ” 

\---

The Gotham City Police Department was in shambles. The two men who’d been running the experiment that killed Dick Grayson were hiding behind the cop who’d been interviewing them. Poison Ivy held herself aloft like an avenging angel, silhouetted by the bat-signal shining on the cloud behind her. The wall between her and the sky had crumbled, brick yanked to the ground by weeds that snatched at the bodies of anyone who got too close. 

“I heard you’re looking for a body when you should be looking for a boy,” her voice was thunderous as her plants grabbed at the men’s guns, throwing them out into the streets. “I heard that you’re harboring  _ liars. _ ” 

Vines wrapped around the legs of the scientists, yanking them into the air and dangling them several feet above the ground, but still low enough for Ivy to sneer down at them. “I think you two should tell the truth to these wonderful officers. Perhaps you should tell them you  _ left the front doors unlocked. _ Maybe you should tell them there was  _ no bomb, _ that it was your experiment that took an innocent life!” 

“Please, we don’t know what you’re talking about, honestly!” One man seemed on the verge of tears. 

“What are you talking about?!” The other shrieked, his voice shrill. “What, can you talk to the  _ dead _ now, or just the daisies they’re pushing up?!” 

“FUCK YOU!” Everyone’s gazes dropped to directly underneath Poison Ivy, where Dick Grayson stood, his tiny form shaking with anger as shrubbery burst into being around him. 

“What the--” The second dangling man started. Ivy’s vines slammed both of them into the opposing wall, letting them fall--unconscious or dead, she didn’t know or care--to the ground. 

“That’s the kid who broke her out of Arkham!” Dick turned to see the guard from the Asylum staring at him. Shock spread like a visible ripple effect through the small crowd as people realized that the formerly-deceased boy did bear a great resemblance to the official sketches of the rogue’s jailbreaker. 

_ “Poison Ivy.” _ A shadow fell upon them all. Dick looked up to see Ivy be tackled by a dark figure. She avoided him, landing on the ground between the figure and Dick. The new person rose and--Dick took in a sharp breath. 

Batman was here. 

The man behind the cowl looked at them both before settling upon Dick’s face. Something in the man’s expression seemed to twitch--pity? Dick couldn’t tell, as it was gone as quickly as it had come. 

“Dick Grayson.” Not Richard. Dick. Only people who’d met him knew he went by Dick. How did the Batman know?

Ivy stepped forward, raising her arms to command her plants to her in a show of dominance. The inhabitants of the room scurried away, happy to leave their problems in the hands of a man dressed as an animal. 

“Dick, let me help you,” Batman ignored Ivy, staring right past her. “This life isn’t what you need. You need--”

“Shut up!” Dick clenched his fists, stepping to Ivy’s side. “Who the hell do you think you are? You don’t know me! What are you gonna do, send me back to juvie? I already broke out once. You gonna make a children's ward in Arkham?” 

“I know what you’re feeling, what you’ve been through--”

“NO!” Batman didn’t know. Batman couldn’t do the things Dick could do, that Ivy could do. Ivy knew what it was like to get hurt when she hadn’t done anything wrong. Ivy knew Dick better than Batman did. 

Batman took a step forward and Dick  _ growled. _ He felt Ivy’s hands fall on his shoulders and was dragged into a scene he’d nearly forgotten. 

_ Dick had been six years old. He didn’t have many friends, as there weren’t any other children travelling with the circus, so he tried to play with kids before and after shows when he could. _

_ Sometimes they were mean. An older boy had called Dick names, had thrown dirt at him and told him to ‘go pick up peanut shells.’ Dick had started to cry; he didn’t know what he’d done wrong. Why did the boy hate him?  _

_ Dick’s mother had come up behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. He could feel her glare from behind him, boring holes into the boy’s head. It had scared him off, and Dick felt safe, because his mother was there. No one would hurt him when she was there. _

Dick willed back the tears that threatened to fall at the memory. Ivy’s hands were turning white and it kind of hurt, but her glare was pointed at the man before them, not Dick. (She’d grabbed his shoulders earlier, too. Thinking of it made him feel warm… safe.) 

“You will not take him.” Poison Ivy snapped. Batman shifted to stare her down. 

“This constitutes a kidnapping, you know.” He said. “You are a wanted criminal, and you are not his legal guardian. I hope you realize this means I will have to target you more directly.”

“Fuck you,” Dick’s cursing seemed to surprise Batman, who hadn’t been there for his entrance earlier. “This isn’t a kidnapping. It’s a team-up.”

Batman, somehow, seemed to frown even more at that. “Dick, you are just a child. You can’t--”

Dick’s arms shot straight up, and the plants around him responded in turn, vines grabbing Batman and throwing him into the air. Dick could  _ feel _ everything the plants could, like they were an extension of himself. He couldn’t help the manic grin that split his face in two. Ivy chuckled from behind him, her grip on his shoulders loosening. 

“You did it,” she murmured, a gleam of pride in her eyes. 

“You don’t need to  _ save _ me, Batman,” Dick beamed at the so-called hero as he struggled against his bonds above them. “And you’re not allowed to call me Dick. That’s what people I  _ like _ call me.”

Dick looked behind him to Ivy, to Pam, and the way the sun had set behind them during the commotion. The night was just beginning. 

Dick turned back to Batman. “You can call me Nightshade.  _ Deadly _ Nightshade.” 


	2. Part 2: The First Sapling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick is an orphan. Pam is all he has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story takes place right before and after Poison Ivy and Deadly Nightshade’s attack on the GCPD. Part 1 takes place in the middle of this one.

“...Pam?” Dick fiddled with his hands. 

“I’m Ivy to you.” She turned to look at him. “Only friends can call me Pam.”

Dick thought of Dr. Quinzel. “Oh, sorry Miss Ivy.”

Ivy sighed. “ _Just_ Ivy. What is it?”

“Oh, um,” Dick looked down at the bandages on his feet. After helping Ivy escape Arkham, he’d fallen very ill. Apparently his new powers had helped slow the infection he’d gotten from walking around the city (and breaking into the Asylum) barefoot, but since he’d never gotten properly treated, his body had eventually lost the fight and he’d succumbed to a terrible fever that had him hallucinating and unable to walk for several days. Ivy had to treat him, and she hadn’t been very happy about it when he became lucid again. 

(She got him shoes that fit, though, made out of red leaves that she curled around his feet and dried into shape, then added more for padding around it. They were incredibly comfortable, and Dick didn’t know how he could thank her for all she had done for him.) 

“You said earlier that, um, that you hate men?” Dick asked. 

“Yes. They’re scumbags who abuse women and the earth. They can’t be trusted. Any man who hasn’t betrayed you yet is just a man who hasn’t betrayed you _yet._ ” 

“R-right.” Dick felt a lump in his throat. “So… does that mean that… when I grow up, you’re gonna hate me too?” 

Ivy looked up at him in surprise. “Well, you’re a boy. If you stay how you are now… if you stay a _good person,_ then you’re not a man at all, are you?” 

“But how do I stop from growing up?” Dick’s heart started to pound. If he lost Ivy--well, even if she didn’t seem to really like him, she was _all he had._ He didn’t want to be alone again. 

“Well you can’t really safely stop from growing up physically,” she mused. “You’ll still get taller and everything. But you could _choose_ to stay a kid where it counts.” 

Dick nodded. “Okay. I won’t grow up, then. I’ll stay a kid forever.”

Ivy laughed at that. “Good luck then, Peter Pan.”

\---

“...You know, when I called you Peter Pan earlier, I didn’t mean it literally.” 

Dick’s face flushed, and he started to pull the sketchbook away. “I can--I can change it--You don’t have to--”

Ivy shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I can make it for you. I just need your shirt and pant sizes.” 

Dick smiled shyly. “Thank you, Ivy.”

“I’ll have to teach you to do this next,” Ivy mumbled as she piloted the plants around her, forming the pieces of a familiar costume. 

\---

They were out of breath when they reached Robinson Park. Batman had chased them all night for what they’d done to the GCPD building. Dick had nearly fallen from the side of a skyscraper when his control over the plants holding him up had started to slip. He figured he’d need to practice his new ability a bit more before his next outing as Nightshade. 

“I like the name,” Ivy spoke, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Deadly Nightshade. Did you come up with that on the spot?” 

Dick shook his head. “I’ve, um, been thinking about it for a while.”

Ivy hummed, a humorous twinkle in her gaze. “Am _I_ allowed to call you Dick?” 

He blinked. “Of course.”

“Then you can call me Pam.” 

Dick paused. Then he smiled. “Thank you, Pam.” 

He watched her start to gather supplies for dinner, walking over to turn on the new radio they’d snatched on their way back from fighting Batman. Dick’s parents had always liked to listen to music when they cooked, so he changed the signal to one such channel.

Dick had made up his mind. He’d stay a kid forever, and that way, Dick and Pam--and Nightshade and Ivy--could stay together forever.

Pam’s humming changed to match the music, and Dick smiled. He missed his parents, but this way, he would never have to be alone again. 


	3. Part 3: Legacies Grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason was dying, and no one was going to miss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some TWs for serious injury, blood, panic attacks, unintentional emotional manipulation (due to miscommunication), unresolved issues, the briefest mention of religion, Bruce Wayne failing at being a parent and fire.

Jason was bleeding out. He supposed it was a fair way for him to die. At least it wasn’t something stupid, like choking to death on a chili dog. The woman he’d been trying to help had run off, so at least she was okay… even if she was kind of terrible. Who left a kid to die on the street?

His head pounded, and he felt sticky and gross as his blood pooled around him. 

He should have stayed at the manor.

He shouldn’t have run. 

But--it was strange, wasn’t it? Getting picked up by  _ Batman _ , and then having said Batman dump you off at a  _ bajillionaire _ ’s house? And strange was dangerous, so Jason had run. 

It hadn’t even been a week. Batman had tried to catch him again, but he’d clearly never been a street rat--he didn’t know the ins and outs of the city like Jason did. 

After that, it seemed Batman gave up. 

Bruce Wayne didn’t even call the cops. 

Which had been great, at first--Jason didn’t want to go to a foster home, wealthy or otherwise. But now he wished there were people looking for him. Maybe a rich guy who could pay for an ambulance. 

He felt lightheaded. He probably didn’t have a lot of time left. Oh, well. No one would miss just another street kid. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the ache in his body. 

Footsteps came up to him. He struggled to open his eyes again. Red shoes. They were… something was weird about them. Jason struggled to figure out what it was. 

Oh, the person was talking to him. What were they saying? Jason let out an incoherent mumble. 

They grabbed him and sat him up. The world spun and Jason held his head. It felt like there were a bunch of marbles where his brain should be, and they  _ hurt. _ And--oh, he was being carried. 

Jason looked up at his captor and gasped. He knew that face. He’d seen it on TV. 

He’d seen it before it was ever on TV. 

Nightshade looked… worried. Did he remember Jason? It had been years. He probably didn’t. 

“Y’look like Peter Pan…” Jason tugged at Nightshade’s sleeve. “Y’just need… a hat…” 

Nightshade said something. He looked worried. Why was he worried? Was something wrong? Oh, maybe Batman had come for Jason… and Nightshade was upset at him for that… 

Jason looked around for the caped crusader, but he couldn’t see him. Right, it was daytime--everyone knew Batman was nocturnal. Duh. 

What happened to the lady again? Jason had tried to help her… He felt like he should know what happened to her. Was she okay? 

“Is she a’right?”

“Who?” Oh good, Jason understood that. Nightshade was carrying him somewhere, he realized. Were they flying? 

“The… woman. She had a bag… and he had a knife… I think…” Jason furrowed his brow. The guy did have a knife, right? It was hard to remember. 

“Tell… Don’t…” Nightshade’s voice faded to a murmur. Jason hummed a catchy tune he heard in a store once. Was Nightshade yelling? He looked pretty upset. Well, that was none of Jason’s business. Were they flying? 

It hurt to breathe. Jason tried to say this aloud, but he was pretty sure all that came out of his mouth was blubbery nonsense. Shit, was he crying? His face felt wet. 

Were they flying? 

Someone was holding him. 

It got dark. 

\---

“I’ll vouch for him, promise. Please--”

“There’s nothing I can  _ do _ , Dick. I’m so sorry.” 

“...Couldn’t… couldn’t you--”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Please, he’ll die! I’ll vouch for him, he’s a good kid--” 

“You knew him for a week a few  _ years _ ago, you can’t--” 

“Please, Mom!” 

“...” 

“Pa-Pam. I meant Pam. Please,  _ Pam _ …” 

“...”

\---

Jason woke up in a green place. It smelled nice, like a flower shop. Was this heaven? Jason hadn’t thought he deserved heaven, but he guessed he did die trying to help someone, so maybe that was all he needed? 

He sat up. His head felt dizzy. There was something he couldn’t remember. 

...Flying? 


	4. Part 3: Legacies Grow, II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the last part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... messed up uploading the last chapter and only put the first bit. Oh, well! Here's the last chunk! Previous warnings still apply. 
> 
> If there are any other mistakes PLEASE let me know!

Jason woke up in a green place. It smelled nice, like a flower shop. Was this heaven? Jason hadn’t thought he deserved heaven, but he guessed he did die trying to help someone, so maybe that was all he needed? 

He sat up. His head felt dizzy. There was something he couldn’t remember. 

...Flying? 

“You’re awake,” Jason looked up, eyes widening at the sight of  _ Dick Grayson. _ Jason hadn’t seen him in  _ years. _ Not in person, anyway--it was hard to avoid the sight of Poison Ivy’s sidekick when they tried to take over the city every year or so. He was  _ Nightshade _ now--he made it abundantly clear who was and wasn’t allowed to use his name. Jason swallowed. He doubted he was one of the lucky few. Nightshade probably didn’t even remember him. So what was he doing here? 

“Am I dead? Are we dead?” Jason asked, looking around. Heaven looked pretty nice, actually. Less clouds than he expected. More dirt. But that was fine; Jason wasn’t a big fan of the whole Christian ideal anyway.

“You did die, for a second there.” Nightshade walked across the room to a wooden box partly buried in the ground. He opened it and reached in, grabbing the contents and turning around. 

“Juice boxes?” Jason looked, puzzled, at the objects in Nightshade’s arms as he dumped them at the end of the bed Jason was in. 

“You need the sugar. You lost a lot of blood. You’re still healing.” Nightshade’s tone was clipped and clinical, like a cop. Jason remembered him being more fun before… before he joined Poison Ivy. 

“You saved me.” Jason’s throat was dry.

The teen--no, he was an adult now, wasn’t he?--nodded once. “You said something about a woman with a bag and a man with a knife, but you were pretty out of it.” 

“Yeah,” Jason recalled the mugging he’d come across, and the pathetically frightened woman who was clearly not a Gotham local. “He was trying to rob her and I tried to help. Load of good that did me. Lady just pulled a disappearing act when I got fucking  _ shanked _ .” 

“You’re twelve now, right?” Nightshade’s gaze was intense. Jason felt like he was being interrogated. 

“Thirteen.” 

“You’re tiny.” 

Jason shrugged, pretending the comment didn’t sting. He knew it was true. “Haven’t had a lot to eat. You know how it is.” 

Nightshade nodded. Jason remembered meeting him, curled up beneath the overhang of the public library Jason still visited from time to time. It had been raining. The boy had obviously been older, but he was hungry. Jason had risked giving him a snack bar he’d shoplifted from a corner store. Conversation started. Jason knew someone who faked letters. Their relationship had been a strange mix of budding friendship and business. Then Dick had broken Ivy out of Arkham, and they didn’t see each other again until Jason was bleeding out on the pavement. 

There was only business now, it seemed. And looking at Nightshade’s physique told Jason all he needed to know about the last time the other had gone hungry. Ivy kept her sidekick well-fed. 

“...Thank you,” Jason removed the blankets and noticed he was lacking a shirt--it had probably been too stained to save, he figured. “I guess I should… go.” 

Nightshade held up a hand, and a plant Jason had never seen before leaned to the side, effectively blocking Jason’s path. “No, you shouldn’t.” 

Jason’s heart started to pound. “Why?” 

“You have to stay here. I have to keep an eye on you, that was the deal.” 

“Huh?” Jason frowned. “What do you mean? What deal?” 

Nightshade gestured to the bed, and Jason shakily sat on it. Did they know he’d been (briefly) taken in by Bruce Wayne? It was probably an easy cash grab to them. How would they react when Jason told them the man didn’t really care about him? Would they let him go, or…? 

Nightshade blinked. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Jason laughed, all nerves and no humor. “I mean, you went through all that trouble to save me… it would be pretty silly to undo all that hard work, right?” 

The rogue frowned. “I guess.” 

Jason went ahead and took a juice box. He felt a bit silly, poking the straw through the foil hole, but it gave him something for his jittery hands to do. He wanted to run--like he ran from Batman, and like he ran from Bruce. He had a feeling though that this time, he wouldn’t be so lucky. 

“We weren’t able to save you normally,” Nightshade said, startling him. 

“...What do you mean?” 

“You were past saving,” Nightshade elaborated. “So we went to… extreme measures. Ivy didn’t want to, at first. But I vouched for you. So now I have to make sure I didn’t do so in vain.” 

“You… vouched for me?” This was very confusing. “What do you mean by  _ extreme measures? _ ” 

“Do you hear anything?” Nightshade asked. 

“Wha--dude, don’t change the subject! What did you guys  _ do to me?” _ Jason’s voice cracked on the last bit. 

“We made you like us. With our heightened healing abilities, you were able to pull through, but barely.” Nightshade grabbed a juice box and opened it, drinking. Somehow, the absurdity of a whole-ass young adult drinking from a juice box was distracting enough from what he just said that it took Jason a solid few moments to process. 

“Like--like you? What do you mean by ‘like you’?” 

“Do you hear anything?” Nightshade lowered the juice box. “Any whispers? Any melodies?” 

Jason did hear music. It was soft. He thought it was playing in another room. 

“...Yes?” 

“Okay. I want you to close your eyes.” 

“What are you gonna do?” Jason tensed. 

“I’m not gonna touch you. I’m just gonna talk to you. Run you through a mental exercise… basically,” Nightshade shrugged. 

Jason hesitated. He really… didn’t know if he could trust Nightshade. But he was standing, like, a foot away from him, so he should probably do what he said if he wanted to live. He closed his eyes. 

“That music you hear? Focus on that. Don’t tune me out, but focus on it.” 

The tune became more clear. It… didn’t feel very far at all, actually. 

“Try to… make your own song. And send it back.” 

Jason felt like he was being made fun of. He squirmed. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel Nightshade looking at him.

The music felt very close now, like it was curling around him. It wasn’t a bad song, he thought. It felt like… like a conversation, if that made any sense? Like the same vibes as having a casual chat, but in musical form. Jason tried to talk back, humming a little noise under his breath. 

The music responded. Jason’s eyes snapped open. 

A vine had stretched itself across his lap. Jason jumped and threw it off him--it hit the floor and the music in Jason’s head  _ whimpered _ like it was  _ sad _ and Jason jumped off the bed, backing up to get further away from the vine as it raised itself back up and curled around the edge of the mattress. 

“Woah, hey, Jason.” Nightshade held out his hands placatingly, as if Jason were a frightened animal. “Calm down. It won’t hurt you. It likes you. It likes all of us.” 

“What--it-- _ us? _ ” Jason’s legs wobbled. He felt a little dizzy. 

“Yes.  _ Us, _ Jason. I told you. To save you, we made you like us.” Nightshade bent down, petting the vine like it were a cat. “See? It’s harmless.” 

“It--so--” Jason took gulps of air, trying to calm down. Another foreign melody hummed in his head, and Jason turned to see the  _ wall, _ which was made of leaves, move  _ towards _ him-- Jason yelped and backpedaled into the middle of the room. 

“Jason. Jason, breathe. You’re okay.” Jason’s heart was pounding, and he was definitely not okay. He noticed more and more melodies in his head and tried to force them out. Things that should not have been moving shifted in his direction. Nightshade grabbed his arm and made Jason face him. 

“Breathe, Jason. In and out. Come on, breathe with me.” Nightshade took several long, exaggerated breaths, encouraging Jason to follow suit. He struggled to do so, but eventually the panic faded, leaving only a stale fear as Jason pulled away from Nightshade’s grip to hug himself. 

“So, I can--that’s how you guys talk to plants? And I can do that now, too?” Jason grabbed another juice box, too stressed to be embarrassed as he chugged it. 

“Yes,” Nightshade sat hesitantly on the edge of the bed. He waved a hand and the vine from before moved sadly away from them. Jason shakily went next to him, the grass--because it was a dirt floor, Jason realized, and his shoes were gone--the grass turned away from him like it was giving him privacy. Jason felt oddly thankful at the courtesy. 

“So if I’m… like you guys… do I have to, like, fight Batman and stuff?” Jason wasn’t too keen on hurting people, but he didn’t want to say that out loud. 

“No, you don’t have to work with us.” Jason breathed a sigh of relief. “But you can’t work against us, either.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Nightshade shrugged like it was obvious. “Don’t rat us out to the cops, or help Batman. Don’t hurt plants. But that last one should be easy for you, since you can hear them now.” 

“I’ve always wondered how you guys eat vegetables,” Jason said aloud before he could restrain himself. 

Nightshade laughed at that, a noise that shocked Jason. “Plants aren’t immortal. They have to die sometime. And a lot of the time edible plants want to be eaten. It’s how they evolved, you know? And eating meat is actually not that great for the environment. Pam could probably give you the whole lecture, but basically, we’re both pescatarian.” 

“Oh, weird. I’d’ve figured you’d be like, strictly carnivores.” 

“Nah. I mean I’m not one of those ‘animals should vote’ kinda guy, but like I said, carbon footprint and all.” 

“I heard that like, most all greenhouse gases is ‘cause of millionaires and stuff, not everyday people.” 

“Yeah, but we can still help by not contributing ourselves. And by killing the rich.” 

Jason shifted uncomfortably at that. Nightshade noticed. 

“...Only if they deserve it. That’s why people like the Waynes haven’t been attacked yet. Robbed, sure, but not attacked. Wayne Tech is actually pretty green, so we try to minimize damage.” Another smile ghosted across Nightshade’s face. “Like somebody once told me, you only take what you need.” 

Jason blinked. He’d said that. He looked up at the man, and at the room of plants. The humming wasn’t really that bothersome once he got used to it, he supposed. 

“I’m surprised you remember me at all,” Jason admitted. “I didn’t really do much.” 

“You were nice to me. Not a lot of people were. Even fewer are now.” 

“Yeah, I figure most probably aren’t too thrilled to see you,” Jason huffed. “What with you having killed people and all.” 

Nightshade laughed. It was less surprising this time. “You make a good point.” 

The music around them all shifted at once. Nightshade sat up straighter, looking at the entrance to the room--there was no door. 

Jason’s voice was quiet. “Poison Ivy?” 

Nightshade nodded. “If you don’t mess with her plans, you should be fine.” 

“Okay,” Jason swallowed. He reached for the last juice box.

“And,” Nightshade added, making Jason look up as the sound of footsteps on leaves became audible. “Never grow up. Stay a kid. If you don’t become a man, she won’t have a reason to hate you. That’s what I do.” 

Jason’s grip tightened on the drink in his hands. What was he going to do when he got older? Would Ivy kill him if he wasn’t ‘young’ enough? 

“Okay,” he swallowed. 

\---

“Hey, Jay, I got you that movie you wanted,” Dick threw the DVD case at Jason’s head. A branch leaned down and caught it before it made contact. Jason raised an eyebrow at him, huffing out a laugh. 

Dick sprawled out over the makeshift couch in the room. “Happy anniversary.” 

“Huh?” Jason looked over. 

“It’s been a year since you joined us,” Ivy walked into the room, carrying a bowl of popcorn and holding it out to the pair of boys. Dick grabbed it, setting it between them. 

“Oh.” Jason blinked once. It had been a whole year? It didn’t feel like it. 

Jason hadn’t left Robinson Park since he’d come there. As he’d suspected, no one noticed his absence when he ‘died’. Nightshade and Ivy had been as active as usual, but no one suspected they had a new housemate. 

Jason liked their arrangement. Both Dick and Ivy were a bit awkward, unused to anyone but themselves, but it was fine. Dick had let Jason use his name pretty soon after Jason had been unofficially kidnapped, and would bring him movies and video games to play while they were away. Ivy was… uncertain about him, but seemed to like when Jason and Dick hung out. So it was fine. She hadn’t hurt him, and she helped take care of him--she was teaching Jason how to cook a bit, and that was fun. (Dick wasn’t allowed in the kitchen, Jason had learned.) 

Dick was teaching him to use his powers, too. They made it easier to do household things, he figured, and some of the plants were intelligent enough for actual conversations. 

Jason took some of the popcorn. It was all organic and ethically grown, of course, with margarine instead of butter and regular salt poured directly on it. But it was still good. Weird popcorn, but not terrible. 

Jason watched as Dick fiddled with the DVD player and Ivy turned on the TV. They were like the popcorn, he figured. He was no poet, but he could see the similarities--they were a weird family, for sure, but as far as families went… not terrible. 

Hell, if he had to guess, he’d say they were probably the happiest criminals in the world. 

\---

Gotham was on fire. Jason had already willed the plants around him to build a barricade around the park, so their home wasn’t in much danger. But Nightshade and Ivy had gone out earlier in the day, and they hadn’t come back yet. 

Jason swallowed back his doubts and launched himself over the fire-proof wall of random junk the plants had found. The smoke was thick and he could feel the plants holding him up burning, wailing in pain. With a twitch, he sent them scurrying back to safety, stumbling blindly through the streets and feeling for anything, listening to anything-- 

\--There. Jason felt a tug and chased it, listening to the dying cries of the wall-crawlers as they told him where to go. He turned a corner and saw a familiar shape. 

Batman was coming out of a kneel, carrying something. Jason squinted through the flying cinders and the haze of smoke. He saw those weird red leaf-shoes. 

“HEY!” Jason rushed forward, ramming into Batman’s side. “Let him go!” 

An arm latched onto him, holding him at a distance. 

“Jason?” Came the incredulous voice. 

Jason’s eyes stung from the heat. He stared at the ground beneath Batman’s feet, feeling, feeling--aha! Roots came crackling out of the gravel at Jason’s call, tying the vigilante to the ground. 

“Jason! You--” 

“I’ll let you go when you give me my brother!” Jason shook. It was getting hard to breathe, but he could see the shock on Batman’s face as clear as day. Batman must have seen something on Jason’s face too, because he leaned forward and dropped Dick into Jason’s arms without argument. 

Dick was light but big, and Jason staggered to stay on his feet. He was still breathing. Just unconscious. 

“Ivy was last spotted in the diamond district,” Batman said. Jason looked at him and nodded, releasing him from the roots. He turned to bring his brother home--he’d drop him off where it was safe and then come back for Pam. 

“Jason, wait.” Jason turned to face Batman, his face set. 

“You shouldn’t be with them. I can help you, give you a safe place to live. Even with your… powers. You have other options.” 

Jason wasn’t sure if the wetness in his eyes was from the raging fires around them or not. “I don’t need other options. And I’m plenty safe.” 

He turned away and began walking. He didn’t look back. 

\---

“Kinda funny, if you think about it, ain’t it Ivy?” Jason grinned. “I get to nurse you guys back to health for once, instead of the other way around.” 

“Pam,” she mumbled, the loudest she could get with her sore throat. She’d inhaled too much smoke before Jason helped her out from under the collapsed building she’d been robbing. 

“What?” Jason looked up from where he’d been steeping some tea leaves for her and Dick, who was busy moping in the other room about having lost whatever he’d gone out to take. 

“Pam,” she repeated. “Call me Pam.” 

Jason blinked. He felt warm--the good, soft kind of warm, not the uncomfortable burning kind of warm. 

“Okay, Pam,” he said. 


End file.
